Behind The Veil
by XbrokenstarX
Summary: Sirius Black finds himself surrounded by his old friends, whom he'd believed to be deceased. He quickly discovers the secret of the veil and the importance of Harry
1. Chapter 1

He could hear voices. Whispering, at first, then growing louder, more urgent, all around him. He groaned, trying to block them out, not wanting his blissful slumber interrupted. Now someone was shaking him, calling out his name, in a familiar tone. He knew that voice. He knew it all too well.  
  
Sirius Black opened his eyes. A dozen faces stared down at him, smiles breaking out across their previously worried faces. He rubbed his eyes in confusion, not fully comprehending what was going on.  
  
"You're not--" he couldn't finish his sentence, unable to tear his eyes away from a smiling woman with flowing red hair and strikingly familiar green eyes. "Wh-what's going on?"  
  
"Oh, Sirius!" she exclaimed, hurriedly pulling him to his face. "I thought you were crossing onto--Well, nevermind, it's really you!"  
  
She was acting like a little girl, her eyes bright, her expression deleriously happy. Sirius gazed blearily at the others. Benjy Fenwick, Dorcas Meadowes, Marlene McKinnon, Gideon and Fabian Prewett. All looked happy, excited and... alive. But that wasn't possible. It had been over fifteen years since he'd last seen any of them, over fifteen years since they'd each died a heroic death. Sirius didn't understand. Blinking in confusion, he struggled to his feet as the group backed away to give him room.  
  
"Well, Padfoot, it's been a long time," a voice said. Sirius turned his head and found him face to face with Harry Potter. Only--He was a good ten years older than he had been only minutes before. And, oddly, his eyes were a deep brown, opposed to their normal emerald.   
  
"Harry?" Sirius asked skeptically. The man looked at him, an odd expression coming over his face. He made a choking sound and fell to the floor, his head in his hands.  
  
"Oh, James!" the red-haired woman exclaimed, joining him on the ground, her arms wrapped tightly around him. "James, not now, please not now."  
  
"James?" Sirius whispered increduously. "No. It's impossible..."  
  
The man on the ground didn't respond. His face was still buried in his hands and he had started to gently rock back and forth. The woman's bright eyes were now filling with tears as she held onto him, looking as though she were lost. Neither of them looked at Sirius.  
  
"Sirius," Gideon Prewett said, breaking the silence. "I think you'd better come with me."  
  
In a daze, Sirius followed this man he had once known so well. This man whose body had been found, inches away from his brother's after Voldemort had stormed their home. He'd held their younger sister in his arms as she'd sobbed, racked with guilt, having run when Voldemort had arrived. Sirius knew that these two had died. So why was one of them walking just in front of him?  
  
"Gideon," Sirius said hesitantly as the man leaned against a wall. "Are-are you real?"  
  
The man laughed, the sound all too familiar to Sirius who felt an unexpected sadness wash over him.   
  
"Yes, Sirius, I'm real," Gideon replied. "As real as I possibly can be. As real as you are."  
  
"Then what is going on?" Sirius asked, feeling young and small. "I don't understand."  
  
"You fell through," Gideon said simply. "It doesn't happen to many, but every so often we get one. Imagine our surprise when we realized it was Sirius Black!"  
  
"I fell through." Sirius repeated. "That doesn't explain what you're doing... Alive."  
  
"I'm not alive, Sirius," Gideo replied heavily. "But I'm not dead either. None of us are quite sure what we are, so suppose we could be alive. Or dead. Though neither of those seem probable. Rather, we merely exist, here together."  
  
"Where exactly is _here_?" Sirius asked, looking around.  
  
"Can't tell you that either," Gideon said, closing his eyes. "No one really knows, though we have discovered that it lied behind a veil in the Department of Mysteries. You, of course, already knew that."  
  
"You fell through the veil, too, then?" Sirius asked, wishing his old friend would open his eyes.  
  
"Oh no, I didn't fall through," Gideon said. "Surely you know how I went. Surely you heard!"  
  
"Well, yes," Sirius said. "But then how did you get here?"  
  
"'Tis a good question," Gideon said cryptically. "We figure there's a reason, though we aren't sure as to what it is. Few wizards end up here, and those that do have no idea why they have. Perhaps that's why the veil is in the Department of Mysteries."  
  
He chuckled and opened his eyes. Sirius merely stared, unable to speak.  
  
"You mentioned Harry," Gideon said. "I can only assume you were referring to Lily and James' son."  
  
Sirius nodded.  
  
"You saw the reaction this received," Gideon continued. "Harry is a sensitive subject for James, even after all this time. He feels this, all this, is somehow all his fault. He finds ways to blame himself for the fact that Harry is constantly in danger. He was never there for him as a father. This wasn't his choice, but James tends to ignore that fact. He believes that Harry must also blame him, in his own way. James never takes into consideration that he did all he could for the boy. He gave his life for him. But he doesn't see it that way. He'd give anything to have his son back, to go back to his son. To have his family complete."  
  
"But he _can_ have him!" Sirius exclaimed. "Harry's in the Department! Right this moment. All James has to do is go through the veil. Why hasn't he done it before now? Harry's out there!"  
  
"I'm afraid it's not that easy, Sirius," Gideon said heavily. "I mentioned that we're all waiting. We're waiting for Voldemort to meet his demise. To die, truly die this time. Because when he does, that's when we can all return."

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This is my first story, so if anyone has any feedback, positive or negative, i'd love to hear it! Let me know what you think


	2. Chapter 2

"I don't understand," Sirius said, staring at Gideon. "You can return? Return where?"  
  
"To the wizarding world," Gideon replied. "To life. We'll be able to get out of here and return to the lives we left behind. Minus Voldemort, of course."  
  
Sirius let this sink in for a second. If what Gideon was telling him was true, then Lily and James weren't really dead. All of the friends he'd thought were gone forever were simply here, biding their time, waiting until Voldemort was destroyed. It was all so simple. And yet, it wasn't.  
  
"How are you sure you'll be able to return?" Sirius asked. "How do you know this place isn't some sort of afterlife? What makes you think Voldemort's death will mean your survival?"  
  
Gideon didn't say anything for a moment. He stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. Finally, he took a deep breath and looked at Sirius.  
  
"I suppose we're not absolutely certain." he said. "Few things can ever be certain. But nevertheless, we all firmly believe this. You see, Sirius, everyone here was killed by Voldemort, with the exception of those who, like you, fell through the veil. Every single member of The Order who met their death by him, are here. Even those killed by a Death Eater, which we feel means--Well, that can be discussed later. The thing is, Voldemort knows we're here. He has means of communication with us. And upon first discovering this, I'm told, Voldemort was furious. Seems as though this wasn't what he intended. I suppose we were all supposed to go on to wherever it is people go when they die. But instead, we found ourselves here. Something prevented us from dying, something that torments Voldemort almost as much as young Harry's survival. Now, however, as he's once again gained power, Voldemort acts as though this was all part of some brilliant plan of his. According to him, we're stuck here for eternity, in our own secluded hell. Without magic, without our friends and family--unless of course, he kills them too--without anything we'd grown used to having."  
  
"Without magic?" Sirius interrupted, realizing suddenly that his wand was missing.  
  
"I'm afraid so," Gideon replied. "You'll adjust. As I was saying, Voldemort believes us to be prisoners of the Dark Side. He strongly believes that 'life' here is worse then death. This place isn't attractive, I must tell you. Look around. Does this look like a nice place to you?"  
  
For the first time, Sirius took notice of his surroundings. Except... there wasn't anything to take notice of. He wasn't even sure if he was indoors or outdoors. Everything was simply empty. It was just one big space of nothing. In fact, the whole place felt like nothing.  
  
"Right, but you still haven't explained why you think everything will be fine when he's gone," Sirius said.  
  
"I was getting to that," Gideon said. "At first, no one was quite sure _why_ it was; why they weren't dead, why they were all here together. But they did know one thing--All of us still have sadness. One who is dead shouldn't hold onto sadness. One who has passed on completely shouldn't long for what was left behind. We should be fully content, reveling in a new adventure, the one that comes after life. So why did they still posses these emotions? Because they weren't dead. Once they came to this conclusion, they were overjoyed. They also started to see the relevance of one other thing. Do you have an idea of what that was?"  
  
"No," Sirius said flatly, wishing Gideon would hurry and get to the point.  
  
"The only people who make it here are members of the Order of the Phoenix, killed by means of Voldemort. We haven't had any glimpse of Death Eaters who rubbed him the wrong way. We've never caught a glimpse of a Muggle who had the misfortune of crossing paths with him. Those who are simply in the wrong place at the wrong time don't arrive here. No, Sirius, it's only those who fought and who were willing to give up everything if it meant the demise of Voldemort, who come here. Namely, The Order. So you see? Something prevented him from killing us the way he intended to. All we know for sure is that those who oppose him strongly enough, cannot be killed by Voldemort."  
  
Sirius thought about this. He still didn't fully understand everything. Nearly everyone, with the exception of Death Eaters, opposed Voldemort. That didn't explain why only Order members made it here. He voiced these thoughts to Gideon.  
  
"Ahh, you make a good point, Sirius," Gideon said. "By ways unknown to most of us, those who have been here the longest managed to obtain sufficient information about the infamous veil that we so cleverly hide behind. According to them, it was most likely made by those who first formed a group similar to the Order of the Phoenix, hundreds of years back when Lord Rigaldo was first gaining his power. It seems as though they constructed this place so that those heroic enough to face the powerful sorcerer, wouldn't die at his hands. It's all a bit fuzzy to us, really, which may be one reason it stays hidden in the Department of Mysteries. But the magic of it was powerful enough to save those fighting today against a different, but frightfully similar, wizard."  
  
"All right," Sirius said slowly, allowing all of this to sink in. "But you still haven't told me why we will all be free once he dies."  
  
"That's just the way it is," Gideon said simply. "That's just the way it is..."

"There you are!" someone exclaimed. Both men turned. It was the red-haired woman.

"Oh, Sirius, I still can't believe you're here," she said, her eyes slightly red. "I know it must be just as big of a shock for you, but I never imagined..."

"Lily," he breathed. He pulled her into a tight embrace as her shoulders started to shake with silent sobs. Sirius wasn't sure if these were tears of joy or sadness, or even a mixture of both. All he knew was that he never wanted to let go.

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Thank you to everyone who reviewed my first chapter, you guys are too nice! I don't expect you to be as nice for this one, as it's a bit shaky. You have no idea how many different ideas I toyed with before settling on this one. I'm still not entirely positive I like it, but if I hadn't chosen something I never would have gotten a second chapter up. So feel free to let me know what you like and don't like about it, and if you have any suggestions, please let me know! I wouldn't be surprised if parts of this chapter end up changing....


	3. Chapter 3

Author Note: just so no one gets confused, I'm alternating between focuing on Sirius and Harry. Otherwise, the story could get a little boring. So if this chapter seems like an entirely new story, rest assured that it's simply the beginning of Harry's POV. Also, a little bit of time has passed since the end of last chapter and the beginning of this one  
  
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For the first time, Harry Potter wasn't looking forward to returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In fact, he wasn't looking forward to doing much of anything. He'd turned down all of Ron Weasley's invitations to stay at the Burrow; he'd declined Hermione Granger's offer to take him on her family's trip to Italy; his longest letter to anyone had been four lines; and he had visited Diagon Alley at the last possible moment, when it was nearly deserted. Harry had spent the past two months sitting in his room at number four, Privet Drive, staring at an old photo album until he thought he'd gone mad. On more than one occasion, he'd caught himself talking softly to the smiling, waving figures in the photos, almost believing he could hear their responses. He knew, however, that it was only wishful thinking.  
  
He used to wish that he had at least known his parents before they were killed. Had the opportunity to spend time with them, get to know them. If this were the case, he had thought, it wouldn't be nearly as hard for him to live without them. But now, after everything that had occurred the previous year, Harry was almost thankful they had died before he had grown too attached. Before he'd had a chance to fully understand what he was missing. Now that Sirius was gone too, Harry had a taste of what that was like.  
  
It wasn't fair. His whole life, he had longed for the parents he'd never known, the ones whose love for him had been so great that they'd given their lives to spare his. A part of him was constantly empty, constantly aching. If only he could see them once more, talk to them at least once, feel the warmth of a parent's loving embrace. If only something would fill this hole in him. It was his one greatest desire. And, for a short time, Harry had gotten the next best thing. A godfather. A wonderful, loving, godfather. Someone who had been best friends with Harry's father; someone who understood when others didn't; someone who was always there when Harry needed him; someone who would always be there. Until...  
  
Harry felt a burning sensation behind his eyes and he forced himself to shift his thoughts. It was nearly nine thirty and he knew he needed to be leaving soon lest he miss the train. For a second, he sat on the edge of his bed and weighed his choices. Stay at the Dursleys' and face abuse and hell; or go to Hogwarts and face a reality.  
  
Disgusted with himself for even thinking about it, Harry grabbed his full trunk with one hand and balanced Hedwig's cage on top with the other and started down the stairs. The Dursleys, he discovered, were already waiting impatiently in the car, clearly more eager than ever to be rid of him. Strange though it was, Harry's silence over the holidays had annoyed them immensely. Every day they suspected he was up to something _magical_, which, in their eyes, was as bad as plotting murder. Any other time Harry would have found all of this very amusing. But nothing was funny for him anymore.

"Hurry up, boy!" Vernon Dursley shouted, sticking his head out of the driver's side window. "You're lucky we're even taking you!"

Harry didn't feel very lucky. He knew why they were taking him. They were afraid that if they didn't, he'd find some other way there, with the help of others like him. Namely, wizards. Harry hadn't bothered to tell them that he'd avoided "his kind" as best as he could the entire summer and they didn't know any better. Hermione had telephoned once, much to Uncle Vernon's dislike. Granted, she, unlike Ron, had known the proper way to behave on a telephone, but this still hadn't satisfied Uncle Vernon. The fact that she had asked for Harry had raised immediate suspicion. He had to hand it to her though, she'd done it in a most clever fashion.

"Harry Potter?" Uncle Vernon had asked sharply after answering the phone. "What do you want with him?"

Harry had looked up from the table at the sound of his name. Uncle Vernon was glaring at him as the caller said something.

"A radio station, you say?" he'd boomed into the phone. "Won a contest? No, no, you must be mistaken. We don't-"

He'd apparently been cut off by the caller and his face grew red, as he took it very offensively whenever someone interrupted him. Harry, however, had grown quite curious by now and gestured for Uncle Vernon to hand him the phone. His uncle had gripped the phone tighter and gave Harry a menacing look.

"I'm sorry, but-" Uncle Vernon stopped mid-sentence. "Wait, what did you say he's won?"

The entire Dursley family and Harry were silent as Uncle Vernon waited for his answer, most likely hoping it were some sort of lawn decoration. A disappointed look fell on his face.

"A bicycle?" he exclaimed, shooting Harry another look. "What use do I have for a ruddy bicycle? No, you have the wrong number. There is no Harry Potter here. Please don't call again. Goodbye!"

He hung up and advanced toward Harry. Dudley wore a proud smirk as he went back to eating and Aunt Petunia hurried to remove her chocolate chip cookies from the oven.

"So," Uncle Vernon said, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "Thought you'd get away with it, did you? Didn't think we'd find out? You didn't expect this Hermione Granger woman to call, did you? Never thought you'd actually win?"

"Um, what?" Harry had asked, bewildered and surprised at them mention of his friend's name.

"You must have done it while we were at Dudley's match last week," Uncle Vernon continued. "Seems you didn't remain in your room the whole time, like you told us. Seems you snuck into Dudley's room and USED HIS RADIO!"

"I knew it!" Dudley yelled in triumph, jumping up from his seat in a quite unpleasant manner. "I knew my room smelled funny when I returned!"

"Only because you smell like pig dung every time you finish a match," Harry shot back. Dudley glared at him.

"SHUT IT!" Uncle Vernon had shouted, and proceeded to rant and rave the rest of the night. Harry managed a grin as he remembered this. Hermione had tried her best and he had actually felt a stab of guilt for replying to her last letter with a simple "I'm fine. Been busy with homework. Haven't gotten my O.W.L. results yet. See you soon." He had, in fact, received the results of his O.W.L. examinations; he just hadn't bothered to open them. At this very moment, they were buried at the bottom of his trunk.

"ARE YOU DEAF?" Uncle Vernon shouted, startling Harry out of his thoughts. "Get in!"

Throwing his things in the trunk of the car, Harry hurriedly opened the back door and slid in next to Dudley, who took up more than his share of the seat. He glared at Harry and muttered something about being late to his match. Harry shook his head and gazed out the window as Uncle Vernon sped off. Despite his previous thoughts, he surely wasn't going to miss the Dursleys.


End file.
